


Four things Vince is generous with (and four things he doesn't give away so easily)

by exeterlinden



Category: Entourage
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-11
Updated: 2008-06-11
Packaged: 2017-10-05 13:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exeterlinden/pseuds/exeterlinden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric's pretty sure that Vince has never slept with any other guy. Neither has E, but that's not the point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four things Vince is generous with (and four things he doesn't give away so easily)

**Four things Vince is generous with:**

 

**His Money**  
Vince has never been able to save anything. Every time he has just a bit of something: He-man stickers, Reese's Pieces, beer, weed, money, it's gone in an instant, spread out between friends and girlfriends. He _loves_ to give.

He says he doesn't care about being broke, but that's not true, Eric knows, because of the simple fact that Vince has never really tried being broke, and so can't know what it's like. 

"What can I say, fate loves me," Vince shrugs when Eric points that out to him.

And maybe that's part of it, but also, a  lot of _people_ love Vince. Whenever he's low on cash, weed, whatever, there's always a brother or a friend, or a producer who's heard good things about him, ready to give or lend him whatever he needs.

**His Home**  
Eric's sister is such a drama queen. Seventeen and such a fucking pain that Eric can't barely stand to be around her. She yells a lot, argues with their parents, plays her stupid rap records at max volume, and on top of that, she is really fucking mean to Eric, calling him _shortypants _and_half a person_. Eric's painfully aware that not a lot came out of his growth spurt, and it's still a sensitive subject to him.

And then she gets this fake gangsta boyfriend with a gold tooth, and kicks Eric out of their shared bedroom most nights in the week. Eric's embarrassed to ask so often, but to Vince and the Chases it's not even an issue. Eric sleeps on a mattress in the room Vince shares with three of his brothers, and watches a lot of daytime TV upside down, head hanging over the couch, feet over the back and resting on the wall. Vince is next to him, with his stupid mop of hair almost touching the carpet.

The Chases are really loud and there's a lot of them. It gets pretty chaotic most of the time, but through it all one thing becomes obvious to Eric: Vince is the Chase family's golden boy. Vince gets extra clothes money, and doesn't have to do dishes, and at family gatherings all his female relatives are flocking around him - and no one seems to think twice about it. Suddenly it's no mystery where Vince got all that fucking confidence: after all, he's pretty much the star of his own family.

**His Body**  
At one point, Eric makes it a point to keep score. Monday: Janice, Tuesday: Laura. A short break on Wednesday, and then it's Amy on Thursday and all through the weekend - and this is while they're still in New York, and all Vince has to his name is a commercial and a bit part in a two-star play.

So he's not at all surprised to see that Vince has stepped it up when he finally arrives in LA. He's a little taken back, though, at the level that Vince has stepped it up to. Now it's Cherie, Youko and Sabra on Mondays, long-legged models and dancers every day, and no breaks on Wednesdays.

"The hell, Vince?"

"Look I have a gift," Vince indicates down his body with a lavish gesture, his smile only half sarcastic "it'd be a shame not to share it, no?"

Eric rolls his eyes "Yeah, okay STD-boy, go share your gifts."

Vince laughs and gives him the finger over his shoulder as he goes back to Anya and Kay, who have been dying to show Vince their beach house.

**His Fame**  
As a friend, Eric likes Johnny a lot. The guy's a freak, but he's a good guy. Back in NY, when Vince and him were little, Johnny was their big idol - a working actor, big beefy guy with a temper, leather jacket and his own car - and yeah, E laughs about it now, but the friendship it fed still sticks.

As a manager, though, it sometimes drives E crazy, the amount of time they spend haggling Vince's contracts to get Johnny cameos or inside deals to get bit parts in other studio productions. He only brings it up once.

"E, he fed me for five years, showed me the scene, I owe him my career."

"It was more like two and half years of Big Macs and one TV commercial audition, Vince, I think you're good, by now."

But okay, he doesn't bring it up again. Eric once gave a gangly prettyboy a tip on the basketball court, and apparently Vince still thinks he's paying him back for that one.

  
**And four things he doesn't give away so easily**:

**His Trust**  
Vince calls him from L.A. to ask him questions all the time. Eric spends a lot of time on his night shifts at Sbarro's with his cell phone pressed tight between his ear and his shoulder while he spreads out tomato sauce, toppings and cheese.

He gets flour into the keyboard and he drops it a couple of times on the hard linoleum so it cracks open in one side. Jamie and Louis make fun of him, walking around with their heads craned to the side and their hands out in front of them, like zombies. 

"Fuck you guys."

"What are they doing?"

The connection is pretty good, Eric can hear the scrapy sound to Vince's voice that means that he's been smoking too much and sleeping too little.

"Nothing, just being stupid."

He gives Jamie a mean look, but she just grins.

"Well, don't pay attention to them, I need to know what to do about this _Head On_ offer."

Eric takes the phone away from his ear to look at the display. Call time: One hour and thirty-six minutes, which he tells Vince. 

"That's your Vicks money gone, why don't you talk to Johnny or Turtle about this, or even better, your agent?"

"Fuck it, I don't trust them, I trust you."

Eric wipes a hand across his forehead.

"Okay, I think you should go for it, I know it's not what you ultimately want to do, but it sounds pretty tight. It'd be a good starting point."

A beat of silence, and then:" That's all I wanna hear, man. Thanks."

Eric sighs and pockets the cell.

"Don't even start, you guys, remember I just made junior manager, I can fire your asses," he says over his shoulder to Louis and Jamie giggling behind him, and then he returns to spreading ham over a deep pan _Meat Delight_ with extra bacon.

**His Secrets**  
Eric's the only person in the world who knows that Vince had a crush on his drama teacher in high school. He likes to bring it up once in a while.

Vince shrugs, fake bravado," Whatever, gay crushes are hip now."

Eric snorts, "Not when you're perving on a forty-year-old high school teacher with a necktie and a fake tan, they're not."

"Mr. Robson had _charisma_."

And that is E's clue to crack the fuck up.

"Oh _fuck you_, shit, why do I tell you stuff?"

But Vince is smiling reluctantly, too.

... Eric is also the only one, except Stacy and Vince, who knows that Vince got Stacy pregnant at sixteen, and that they visited one of those clinics where they don't even need to get your name. Back then he spent a lot of time with Vince, just hanging out, lying side by side with Vince on his bed, staring at the ceiling and not really talking. He never brings that one up.

**Whatever You Could Call This**  
Eric's pretty sure that Vince has never slept with any other guy. Neither has E, but that's not the point.

For E it's been Vince all the time, ever since Vince was all skinny legs and pointy elbows and kissed him clumsily under the covers. They jerked each other off in the school bathroom stalls and laughed about it while they wiped their hands in soggy communal towels, feeling reckless. They made out in Central Park, stopping breathlessly every time they thought they heard someone approaching. Later, they smoked joints and screwed around on Drama's living room carpet while he was away for a short-lived play in Boston.

Eric's not really into guys, but he's into Vince in a big way, has been ever since high school, when he found out that sex ed screws you over when they try to make you believe that a lot of experience doesn't count for anything.

Vince, though, is all about pleasure, and he could have slept with a host of pretty twinks, surfer dudes, leather joes, or whatever he's into, in LA. Vince is not straight, necessarily, and Eric has seen him flirt with a lot of guys that he could have taken home; guys that were pretty much begging to be taken home, if Vince would just give them the green light.

But Vince never has, and Eric knows that it's not just about the paparazzi and maintaining an image - it's about something else, too.

**His Apologies**  
Eric wakes up at three fifteen when Vince slides onto the bed next to him.

"Look, I've been a jerk the last couple of days,"

He splays out on the bed, his neck bent at an awkward angle against the headboard. Eric rubs his eyes, struggling to be awake for this, because Vince is biting the nail on his thumb, which means that he's stressed out about something.

"No shit." he says lightly. 

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

Eric has to smother a smile and a comment about being a girl. Vince hardly ever apologizes for anything, at least not in words, and it looks like it's killing him. 

Vince half smiles and looks at him, tired and unshaved, he looks like someone who hasn't slept for a while.

"I guess I'm just freaking out about _Aquaman_. I mean, they're gonna pay me five million dollars for this movie."

Eric turns on his side to look at Vince, slim underneath his t-shirt and boxers, long torso, long legs, eyes dark and intense in the half-light.

"Don't worry you're going to be hot as hell, teenage girls will be fawning over you."

He reaches out and places a hand on Vince's knee. He's trying for reassuring, but hell, this is Vincent Chase half-naked in his bed, who is he kidding.

"Teenage girls are already fawning over me."

Sinewy muscles flex underneath Eric's palm.

"I know."

And appearantly that is all the reassurance Vince needed, because he's leaning down to kiss Eric, sliding his hand into his hair to cup his skull with long fingers. He tastes a lot like the sherpa's finest and a little like mint toothpaste - and just like that E can feel a hot wave of endorphins pulsing through his body, sweet and slow.

He lifts up his blankets and Vince slides in smoothly, wrapping his five-million-dollar body around him.


End file.
